


Cold Comfort

by Yavemiel



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/M, Not A Fix-It, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 09:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yavemiel/pseuds/Yavemiel
Summary: Jyn Erso re-learns how to feel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Rebelcaptain Appreciation Week over on Tumblr, Day Four prompt: nerve. 
> 
> A warning: Jyn definitely has a death wish in here, I'm not certain if I'd describe it as suicidal ideation, but I just want to put the warning out there in case that's triggering for anyone. 
> 
> A final note: The title for this comes from a wonderful song called 'The Soldier and the Slave' by the awesome RapidashPatronus, which can be found here: http://rapidashpatronus.tumblr.com/post/159496290006 I highly recommend that you check it out, it's amazing!

Wobani is numbing.

Saw taught her to control her emotions, keep them locked down to get the job done, but Wobani is on another level. It’s a death sentence: everyone knows you don’t leave Wobani alive, and so they shuffle from day to day, the walking dead, waiting for an end that becomes almost a promise of solace, a chance to rest in peace, untroubled by back-breaking labour, pointless fights and uneasy sleep. Even the brutality of the ‘troopers becomes almost mundane, a sharp buzz of electricity to remind you that you’re not dead yet, casual cruelty leaving wounds that all too frequently don’t get a chance to heal. Apathy is the only defence, and Jyn has always been good at protecting herself.

The tang of adrenaline in her throat as smashes a shovel across the face of her ‘rescuer’ is familiar and not all at once, and she lets it carry her past another Rebel, making for the exit, even though she knows, she knows it’s pointless, there’s nothing out there except miles and miles of bleak mining covers and other transports carrying the dead-in-waiting, but maybe, just maybe those Rebels brought a ship and she can-

“Congratulations, you are being rescued. Please do not resist.”

Jyn glares up at the Imperial droid as best she can but she can feel herself sinking back into darkness, adrenaline fading as consciousness slips away and the thoughts slides through her mind: _maybe this is the end. Finally._

**

It’s not the end.

The Rebellion has need of her, and isn’t that hilarious, the funniest thing that’s happened to Jyn in years, even if she doesn’t think she’s capable of laughing any more. It’s probably a good thing. She’s not sure if it would come out as laughter or tears.

Her apathy has returned, a careful shield against the hope that this woman in white is trying to taunt her with. The man with the accent, him she can cope with. His style of questioning is conversational but direct, no false promises here. Still, she can’t help how her heart jumps into her throat when they mention putting her back in Wobani, the answers to their questions jumping to her lips unbidden, the plea unspoken but clear.

_Please don’t send me back there._

Apparently she’s still capable of fear. Maybe she’s still alive after all. Maybe this won’t be the end.

**

If Wobani is numbing, Jedha is the exact opposite, a sharp shriek of life against her nerves.

She forgot, somehow, how alive people are. Can be. Wobani took that from her, but Jedha gives it back. It’s why she wanders over to the blind old monk, a curiosity rising inside her that she’s not felt in years, interest in the world around her. It’s why she dashes out under heavy fire to scoop up the crying child (and maybe also a little because she’s been that crying child and she remembers wishing for someone to rescue her at eight, at eleven, at seventeen, but she’s not ready to admit that even to herself). It’s why she throws herself down over Cassian to protect him from the shrapnel raining down on them. He said rebellions are built on hope, and she scoffed, sensing a bitterness in the mantra that matched her own, but it seems that the words took root nonetheless.

Saw ends what the city began. She is ripped open, raw and bleeding as her father’s message plays out, and when the ground begins to tremble she doesn’t even notice at first, because her protective shield, her apathy is crumbling around her as her knees hit the floor and it feels only right that the world should tremble too. Cassian saves her, props her up when her legs fail her, and gives her back her reason now that her numb stumble towards death is no more: he knows where to find her father.

She stares out the window, mesmerised as the devastation of Jedha turns into the cold clarity of hyperspace and two thoughts chase each other round her head like dogs.

_Papa, I’m coming._

_Please, this can’t be the end._

**

Eadu leaves her as one giant nerve, pulsing with force of her anger and grief.

She can hardly recall now how it felt to be numb, to not have this driving fire in her belly, fury in her heart. She screams at Cassian and he screams back, and it makes her feel better and worse at the same time. She can feel herself spiralling into the maelstrom of her own emotions, but then Chirrut’s hand around hers is like a brand, grounding her, and she can feel the storm inside harden into something clear and strong.

Purpose.

**

_Welcome home._

Cassian’s words pulse in her ears as they stride purposefully towards the cargo ship that will bring down Empire.  
  
_Welcome home._

She’s calm on the outside only, inside nervous in a way she can only vaguely recall from early skirmishes in Saw’s cadre.

_Welcome home._

Bodhi is as bad at subterfuge as Kay, which is saying something, but when he says the words ‘Rogue One’, she can feel something settle in her stomach, a sense of rightness and calm. She smiles instincively at Cassian, high on hope and determination. He smiles back as she brushes past him and she pauses as that lights up a different set of nerves entirely.

_Welcome home._

**

  
The nerves are back as her boots hit the sand on Scariff.

She feels like a livewire walking through the Imperial facility, electricity flowing through her veins instead of blood, and it’s almost a surprise to her that no one stops them, that they can’t feel the energy sparking off her skin.

Her heart aches for Cassian as they listen to Kay’s death, but the nerves have receded now, the sense of purpose back as she focuses on their duty, and she can see Cassian doing the same. There will be time to grieve later, or there will not. Either way, there is no time now, only the task at hand, and she can almost feel herself dropping into the zone, her protective shell determination now rather than apathy.

Krennic rips that from her, the man in white, back as through he walked straight from her nightmares into her waking world. She is a live nerve again, her heartbeat so loud in her ears that it almost obscures all other sound. It cannot block the sound of Cassian’s body crunching against steel bars as he falls though, and she knows that sound will haunt her nights from now on.

Assuming she lives long enough.

**

Cassian comes back.

Jyn doesn’t believe in miracles, but she’s willing to believe in one now as she finally, finally pulls the lever and the screen lights up like a prayer.

The surge of vengeance that streaks through her as she turns on Krennic’s body isn’t a surprise, but the sense of relief when Cassian pulls her back and she allows herself to be comforted is. Every hold the man in white had over her is broken now. She doesn’t need to see his death. She’s already won.

The ride in the elevator is the longest twenty seconds of Jyn’s life. There are no shields now, neither for her nor for Cassian, no duty, no grief, no apathy, just them. Words have never been friends to her, silence her favoured companion, and she hopes that Cassian doesn’t mind, that he can see the gratitude and love and hope in her eyes.

(He can).

**

This is the end.

She can feel it in her bones, every ache of them as she half pulls, half carries Cassian towards the beach. They stumble in sync, towards death again, but she feels no fear, no helplessness. It’s not apathy that protects her from these now, but peace, and Cassian, his hand over hers, his words soothing her in a way she hasn’t felt since before her mother’s death.

They watch the fire rolling over the sea towards them, beautiful and mesmerising in its destructive power. She isn’t certain who moves first, but she melts into his embrace. She hasn’t hugged another person in so long, and it’s a balm to her spirit. The wave of fire moves ever closer, burning her skin now, but she refuses to close her eyes in the face of it, one last act of defiance against the Empire. She hugs Cassian closer, and revels in the peace she feels in this strangest of last moments, their hearts beating in harmony, each pulse beating out a distinct rhythm that she can feel in her soul.

_I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m-_

-Fin-

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading, any feedback is gratefully received, and if you're interested in coming and chatting Rebelcaptain (or anything else with me), I am to be found on the Tumblr under the same username, yavemiel. :) x


End file.
